AbandonMint by John Lunar Richey

                        Alex Weimer CC



AbandonMint 

   I have been with a beautiful woman in her thirties. I am 67 with Cerebral Palsy living in Florida. 
   When growing into puberty, my grandmother considered CP a deterrent to finding a girlfriend. She told me it’s okay to be single. Dating is not all it’s cracked up to be. With my arched arm and skinny limping leg, Grandma never expected me to find a girl. She never expected me to even make college. And when she met my sweet, pretty, college coed, Lindsey she gave me a side look, “You’re living together?” I nodded. “Sleeping together?” I smiled. She giggled like a child.
   That’s all in my past. Now I don’t get it up anymore. Well rarely. Alone at 67, I take two blood pressure pills and a heart pill daily. But let’s halt this elderly AARP talk. 
   I met this woman via Craigslist where there are no Personals anymore. One must be discrete and look under “Activity Friends” in Community. 
   The ad that caught my eye was mysteriously articulate without getting bounced as a sex ad. I got it. I answered honestly in a penitent manner. Careful and cautious, I politely asked if her ad refereed to cunnilingus: “If I am mistaken, my humble apologies.”
   I was correct. Samantha was a young Afro-American (I am Caucasian) seeking an older male friend. The mature man she was seeing recently moved away. She missed her pleasure and release. I gave her both with no strings.
   A nurse and grad school student, Samantha studied and worked hard, sometimes doing 12-hour shifts. I was on call. Dropping whatever I was doing when I was summoned by her text: “Hi, what are you doing?” I would hop in my car, drive to my home and greet her in my candle-lit bedroom. No small talk, Samantha would strip and lie across my bed. Her beautiful, fresh scented body. Her buxom breasts flickering in the candle light. Her legs open…My smile glistening as she walked out the door. 
   When I moved into a trailer park our relationship ended. She visited me one Sunday evening. The people I just met were gathered outside of my next-door neighbor’s trailer watching football and drinking. They all saw her with arched necks, muttering whispers. Samantha would secretly come in the back gate where I lived previously. No one saw her. Samantha was shy and aware of all those white male Floridians peering at her. It was too much. She lied down and took my head in her hands for the last time.

   I decided to create my own ad in Craigslist’s “Activity Friends.”  I pondered a creative method of masking my desires so as not get flagged. I decided to use a literary reference - Exit to Eden as my “subject”– that’s the book title of an S&M novel by Anne Rampling, AKA Anne Rice. My ad was about creative explorations into the realm of this book, seeking a couple, female or male. Many horny guys answered and were shunned. They deciphered my code easily, but were all boring vanilla cocksuckers. I wanted more but no women replied. Ben was a bisexual who said he was interested and knew a woman who would like to be involved as well. Ben got it. 
   Ben wasn’t really dominant but we smoked a lot of his meth and I allowed him to act out his porn induced Master role without laughing. We smoked, we sucked and later Ben called Sally over; a sexy, plump, devilishly soft-spoken blonde. We got so high. Sally stripped, blurting out, “Condom fucking only.” Ben said. “I really like to fuck without a condom.” Sally raised an eyebrow, “That’s why.” Sally asked if it was true meth made men horny. We both said yes. She said she preferred heroin. Maybe she did some, because we had a wild sexual experience and even indulged in a few of our fantasies.  Although the one of Sally in high heels and hands bound behind her back never happened. Sally was kneeling, giving Ben head as I laid on my back between her knees, head raised with a pillow. Pleased, Sally moaned saying, “I’ve never done this before.” Sally was really good at giving head, sucking me, swirling her tongue for quite a while. I stayed hard but was compelled to tell her this might take forever at my age. She smiled and stopped.
   When you deal meth parties don’t stop. I stayed at Ben’s for days. Smoking and tweaking and smoking more. Days and nights without sleep. 
   Dazed in delirium and alone in Ben’s bedroom, I dressed in a rather femme pant blouse outfit Ben purposely laid out across a messy heap of clothes. 
   A drug connection party was taking place in the kitchen. Men, women, chatting, laughing. The thought of walking out dressed like this made my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I stayed out the party. 
   High and in a haze, a knock came on the door and in walked Renee. A strikingly beautiful brunette; smart, sassy and captivating. A 32-year-old bartender who looked so much younger. I told her I was messed up on meth and experimenting with femininity and considering becoming a woman’s submissive. “After all, I recently failed with a gorgeous blonde.” Kidding embarrassment I continued, “What’s left for a hyper-sexual elder with erectile disfunction?” And smiled mischievously. She got it. “Ha!” She laughed out loud.
   “Meth doesn’t get me horny,” she shrugged. “Coke does.” Renee lights her lighter, heats, spins the glass between her lips, inhales deep, shares her shotgun plumes with me lip-to-lip. 
   Renee applies lip gloss and places the gloss on the dresser saying, “I will leave this here.” She keeps returning. I inhale the coke from her lungs with a kiss. Renee once again applies gloss to her lips, then mine asking, “Are you staying the night?” 
   “Yes.”
    “Good,” she kisses me, “I will return after I’m done with my run.” And off she went with her kitchen drug dealing mystery man.
   Renee returned looking rested and eager to play. Nearly naked on the Queen size bed, Renee stretches her pretty feet off the bed dangling her open toe heels till they drop to the floor. Now naked, Renee pouts, “My puppies need attention.” 
   I take to massaging her feet; cocoa butter across her heels, sides of her feet and later her toes. Giggling as I kissed her feet which led to her sighing gently as I licked and sucked each toe. Renee moans, “It’s been a long time since someone’s done that”. Thanking me Renee keeps on smiling, a voyeur watching intently as I suck Ben’s cock. 
   Renee runs out of coke stating “I need coke to cum.” I give her a look. “I got money,” she says. I’m thinking how fucked-up I am. This is probably the way she lost her license. “All I need is a ride,” she says. 
   I drive her to a local pick up house and give her twenty bucks since we share. She keeps me waiting. If I don’t get her, I’ll be sitting here high when the cops ride by. I get out and chat with a girl in the driveway who walks me inside and calls for Renee. Pulling Renee away from her conversation we take off and pull into Ben’s driveway as he’s preparing to leave for his night job. We would have been locked out had we not gotten back in time.
  Ben doesn’t like Renee that much. For some reason they both rub each other the wrong way – creating crazy drug-fueled arguments between them – obviously just another unresolved love/hate relationship either biting the dust or about to fly. 
   Renee hits the pipe. Getting horny, she tells me what she likes. Ben gives me a look, rolls his eyes, sarcastically repeating Renee’s words, “I need my tits played with first.” Ben then goes to work leaving us alone.
   We retreat into the bedroom, light the pipe, twisting and puffing and puffing. Filling our lungs with the smoke. Getting very high. Primed. Wired. Lying naked in bed watching kinky sex on her phone. “I like a light touch. Can you glide your hands lightly across my body?” Of course, I can. I watch the screen illuminate her devil smile turning back and forth from me to the phone screen; audio off. I find her directions a turn on. I like pleasing her with my light touch, raising goosebumps, nipples and even my cock. She whispers, “mmm such a nice light touch.” 
   Rene’s fingers spread, softly unfolding juicy lips. “Look,” says Renee, showing me her glistening clit “See how I barely touch?” Renee slides her finger, then mine across her sex pulse repeating, “Soft touch.”
   Renee became annoyed at times. My darting tongue lightly edging her with gentle butterfly kisses over and over as she watches porn on her phone, frustration building. Renee in control, loves the tension. She stops. “Look,” Renee says, glass pipe in hand, “I am about to cum and I want it to happen when I take this last hit.” I got busy and maybe a little excited. “Lightly,” she instructed with a whisper. Very light and slow, sometimes not even sure I’m touching her. My head guided by her hands, gyrating thighs, moaning till everything came together in a shaking climax.
   We’re lying down to relax when Ben returns and so did the nasty comments, arguing all over again. Everything just destroyed by nastiness. No time to appreciate the joy. 
   “Time to go,” I get dressed, telling Ben and Renee, “I need to get home and sleep a little before work.” I walk out, get behind the wheel and drive; stiff, shaky and extremely irritable from exhaustion. 
Careful and attentive I drive through the suburban streets to the strip-malled highway, thinking how glad I am to be exiting this short epoch drama. Ben’s house harbors criminals with records to prove it. Many have lost their driver’s license and are buried in fines. I’m not going down that road. I turn onto 95 South, vowing never to go back. Just a quick party channel visit. Limited subscription. Prescription expired. I am moving on - a Channel Shifter - surfing through the various channels of my life. 


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John Lunar Richey has three books published; Poetry, an erotic novela and what could be considered a PG short story collection.
J.L.R. musical foreys are now available for download with Lunar Bear Ensemble, Machine Gun & Lunar Ensemble.